


"I'm bored John!" - "And I'm a doctor, what else is new?"

by Inactive Account (sassybleu)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Greg is Graham, Happy Ending, I Tried, I hope, I really did, Jealousy, John is bisexual, John is ignorant, M/M, Okay totally done now, Sherlock is jealous, Wait one more, funny ending, i'm done
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 09:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1813711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassybleu/pseuds/Inactive%20Account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once the tea was done, he took the mugs on the tray into the sitting room. By this point, Sherlock was leafing through a large encyclopedia, tearing the pages out one by one. </p><p>John has taken to ignoring Sherlock when he's bored; and Sherlock really doesn't like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"I'm bored John!" - "And I'm a doctor, what else is new?"

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for liebling
> 
> Prompt: John is ignoring Sherlock and paying attention to to other people, Sherlock gets jealous.
> 
> Goal: 500 words  
> Disclaimer: I own nothing except my story

Sherlock was sulking again. It had been three days without a case and he was already bored. Thankfully, John had the good sense to hide his handgun, but that doesn’t mean Sherlock didn’t try looking for it. Once he found it, and John took it away again, he flopped himself down on the couch, and yelled, “Tea!” John sighed as he stood up, and went to the kitchen to make a cuppa. While he was waiting for the kettle to boil, John took out some biscuits Mrs. Hudson had dropped off earlier, setting them on a tray.

Once the tea was done, he took the mugs on the tray into the sitting room. By this point, Sherlock was leafing through a large encyclopedia, tearing the pages out one by one.

“Sherlock! What the bloody hell are you doing?” He shouted as he snatched the book from his flatmate’s hands.

“Bored! John.” He picked up his tea and drained it down in one gulp, ignoring the scorch in his mouth as he set the mug down. John had decided the last time Sherlock was bored that he was not going to put up with it. Grabbing his more expensive possessions that remained in the sitting room, he headed up the stairs to his room and locked the door; ignoring the call of his name from down the stairs. Sherlock, being already agitated, wouldn’t stand for this, and he took to tearing the pages out of all John’s Medical Journals, while occasionally shouting, “I’m bored John!”

[……]

After two more days of locking himself away from Sherlock, and cleaning the mess while he cooks dinner, a miracle happens. Not a miracle in the holy sense, but a miracle that cures Sherlock’s boredom. Lestrade calls with a serial killer (“A serial killer, John! Oh they’re fantastic!”). As they step out of the cab, and walk to the crime scene, Sherlock is practically bouncing in excitement. As he walks towards the group of bodies that lay one on top of another, John hangs back and talks to Greg.

“You don’t know how happy I am you called. Sherlock was ripping every book I own to shreds.”

“Sorry for the lull; though I can’t say I’d get him more murders if I could. Better he keeps ‘em off the streets yeah?”

As they continued to make small chat, Sherlock was becoming increasingly annoyed. John usually observed _him,_ he usually stood by with the words ‘Brilliant’ and ‘Amazing’ rolling off his tongue every two minutes. Now he was talking to Lestrade, not even focusing on his work. _Why did he even bother to come?_ Sherlock thought about and his brain started to form connections; _Maybe he’s come all this time to talk to Graham (Graham? Gavin? Greyson? Irrelevant. Starts with G.)_ Sherlock finished looking at the bodies sprawled atop one another and solved the crime in six minutes, able to give the DI the exact location of where the killer would be at 3 o’clock the next afternoon.

Sherlock stalked back towards John and Greg, who were still chatting.

“Not even a 4.” He whined, “John! We’re going. Now.” And he grabbed John’s arm and pulled him towards the road. Catching a cabin seconds, John started to berate him for his behavior,

“Sherlock, I’m not a bloody dog! You can’t say ‘Come’ and expect me to follow; that was rude. And you didn’t even tell Greg what you found about the killer!” Sherlock gritted his teeth at the word ‘Greg’ but remained silent. Taking out his mobile, Sherlock texted the address and time of where to catch their killer. A few moments later, John’s mobile chirped,

  **Thanks for getting him to talk. Up for a pint later? –GL**

**No problem. 5 at the usual? Can’t stay too late, Sherlock needs to eat tonight. –JW**

**Sounds good, meet you there. –GL**

[……]

Sherlock was deeply engrossed in an experiment when John left, it was only an hour later when he yelled “Tea!” and got none, that he realized his flatmate’s absence.  Sherlock became livid very quickly. Not only had he been ignored for a week, and bored out of his mind, but now John had left, leaving him even when he wasn’t being awful. Distracted, Sherlock stopped his experiment and went to the window. Picking up his violin, he began to assault the strings, much to the annoyance of one Mrs. Hudson downstairs.

[……]

At 8 o’clock, John came in with Chinese takeout, smelling of beer and cheap cologne ( _Lestrade’s; they were sitting close, most likely at the bar, 3 and a half pints_ ). Sherlock turned and gave him an icy glare, but continued his shrieks on the instrument. John looked at him, sighed, and walked into the kitchen. After spreading out all the food, he called Sherlock in and forced him to eat. After he was satisfied that the man wasn’t going to collapse from hunger, he muttered, “Get some sleep.” And trudged off to bed, leaving the mess to cleanup in the morning. Sherlock sat at the table, agitated at the complete lack of conversation from his friend. Unluckily for John, Sherlock is awful when jealous, almost as bad as when he’s bored. So without a word, Sherlock took all the leftover food, and started pouring it from the containers, all over the floor.

[……]

The next morning didn’t go well for either of them. John was angry over the mountain of noodles and ants in the kitchen, and Sherlock was angry that John was making him kill the ants (“John! These are perfect for my next experiment… I don’t want to _kill_ them John, I want to _use_ them! Scientific results rest on my shoulders, I can only provide if I have these ants, and these _particular_ ones.” – “Sherlock, no. I’m not going to tell you again; keep cleaning.”)

 

 

After cleaning up (which Sherlock had somehow weaseled out of, and left John to do it), Lestrade texted them the address of another crime scene. After arriving, John hung back to talk to Greg about meeting up again. Soon, Anderson and Donovan had joined the conversation and they were all talking about babies (how they got to the topic is a mystery to all).

Ten minutes after arriving, Sherlock had solved the case ( _Simple poisoning by the mother-in-law, can’t these people do anything?_ ) Listing off the connections at the scene, while including a few remarks about Anderson’s idiocy in between, Sherlock turned on his heel and caught a cab, leaving behind a very confused and slightly angry John Watson.

[……]

John got home 20 minutes later than Sherlock, and he was confused.

“Sherlock, why the hell did you just leave me there?” Sherlock glanced at John from his chair, scowled, and looked at his skull on the mantle.

“If you are only there for Graham, then I didn’t think it would be necessary to force my presence any longer than necessary.” John was frozen in place, and his mind was trying to analyze what Sherlock had just said.

“I’m sorry, I don’t follow.” He eventually said as he walked to sit in his own chair.

“I said, John, that if you intend to keep your presence in that of the Detective Inspector, I will not force mine upon you both any longer than necessary; do not make me repeat myself again.”  Hearing the twinge in Sherlock’s voice, John’s confusion suddenly cleared;

“Sherlock…are you jealous?”

“Don’t be an idiot John.”

“You are, you’re jealous. Imagine that, Sherlock Holmes; jealous of Greg.” John said, amusement in his voice. Sherlock scowled again and returned his gaze to the skull.

“You’ve got no reason to be. I’m sorry I’ve been ignoring you lately, but you know as well as I do that there’s nothing I can do if you’re bored. Better to stay out of your way. Greg’s my friend, I’m allowed more than one you know.”

“I don’t want to be your friend, John.” The hurt must have shown on his face because Sherlock quickly added, “It’s not enough.” John breathing hitched as he suddenly took in the words.

“Oh.” Was all he could manage to say, “Well, let’s give it a go then.”

Sherlock’s scowl was replaced by uncertainty, as he sat up in his chair and leaned forward, John copied the movement.

Seconds ticked by as they leaned closer to one another, lips just centimeters apart, John smiled and said, “Sherlock Holmes, you’re a brilliant idiot.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading
> 
> 4/13/15: Please do not duplicate or post this content elsewhere without consent.


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